


Kissing Strangers

by FatalViolet520



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Celestial Spirits - Freeform, F/M, LoRies, Oh my god so much angst, Pining, Zodiac, and dealings with the inner child, and no he doesn't actually kiss strangers, frustrated loke, lots of manly crying, poor aries, there is no happy ending this time, they belong together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:00:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalViolet520/pseuds/FatalViolet520
Summary: Nothing will ever compare to kissing her. They don’t have the softness that only she has; they aren’t shy yet demanding. Most of all, they aren’t her, and what breaks his heart the most is he misses her so much more - human time is so much longer - than she will ever know.





	Kissing Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> I drowned myself in sad songs and lullabies. I hope it shows. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither Fairy Tail characters nor the title of this fic, taken from the song 'Kissing Strangers'.

2 years. 

 

What did 2 years mean? An anniversary? A celebration? A reunion? Or all three? 

 

Loke smiled bitterly, eyes hooded as he swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Certainly, an anniversary. Though he was pretty sure Karen’s death wouldn’t be a celebration of any sorts. He laughed at one of the jokes by the many girls crowding around him, though it sounded as hollow as he felt. The glass in his hand trembled violently. A  _ reunion _ , huh. 

 

A reunion that would never happen, not in a million years. Not with Karen, never. 

 

Neither with Aries. 

 

The glass in his hand finally broke and he left Fairy Tail’s bar before anyone could ask concerned questions. As he stumbled on the dark streets, there was a flash of sweet smelling something beside him. Pink hair. White dress. Aries, his love, wherefore art thou?

 

_ Memories of warm smiles and stuttered confessions, of watching their own world and delighting in the stars. Of treasured time together and an eternity promised to each other.  _

 

It wasn’t her. Of course. She wouldn’t be here. She would be with an owner, someone loving and caring, he hoped. Something good had to come out of his sacrifice, right? His hands curled into fists and he tampered down the instinct to fight someone - the alcohol, of course drew his worst out, including times he never wanted to remember.

 

_ Memories again. Of bruises and cuts and wounds and frantically staunched bleeding. Of tears and head shaking and, “I’m sorry.” Of the time when barely a few minutes passed before she was called again - to be played with. All the times when he had been helpless as he watched her suffer under the hands of Karen and yet no one stopped her. _

 

2 years. 24 months. Maybe 8 days in the Celestial World. 8 days too long, he thought, and the familiar feeling of pain stabbed at his chest like sharp knives at cotton. This was his punishment, he decided. Not only that he couldn't return to his own world, but also that no one could compare to her. No feeling could compare with her. Not with the gorgeous women who threw themselves at his feet, nor the kisses on the cheeks that he sometimes gave them. Because nothing will ever compare to kissing her. They don’t have the softness that only she has; they aren’t shy yet demanding. Most of all, they aren’t her, and what breaks his heart the most is he misses her so much more - human time is so much longer - than she will ever know. 

 

His unforgettable love, his one and only love, and they weren’t allowed to see each other. How much more star-crossed could this get? He was banned, just as Romeo had been. A sudden, draining rush hit him as he passed his front door, and he slid down the closed door, lightheaded and white flashing behind his eyelids. He was going to die soon… just like that. “How regal,” he muttered, stumbling up and to the bathroom, “The Lion, failing just like this.” The fluorescent lights of his bathroom highlighted how weary he’d become in the past two years. He noted the eye bags, his paler skin and his weaker aura. 

 

_ If only, if only _ . 

 

His hands gripped the sink, eyes boring into the white of the bowl. He’d never noticed how off-white it actually was. Maybe he’d have to replace it. Paint it the same pure white of Aries’ cotton dress.

 

_ Oh, who was he kidding _ ? 

 

He aimed a frustrated kick at the bathroom wall - it cracked and he’d probably get so much shit for this - but it did nothing to relieve his feelings. Clutching and opening his fists, he removed his various rings one by one, bar the one that Aries had given him so long ago. They’d made a promise to protect and love each other under the stars, and he wasn’t about to renege on his promise anytime soon. Not that he could do anything else. 

 

_ 8 days _ . 

 

He’ll drive himself mad, at this rate, but he doesn’t give a  _ fuck _ . He crumpled on his bed, palms rubbing into his eyes, forcing himself to remember what she sounded like, what she smelled like, what she felt like. His hands are tugging at his own hair painfully, and he lets out a ragged sound that seems to close to a sob. The Lion doesn’t cry. But he’s not the Lion anymore. He’s Loke. Fairy Tail’s Loke, and anytime soon, he’ll fade into stardust, leaving nothing behind. 

 

The yearning for her is a physical pain now, and if he imagines hard enough, he can almost feel her in his arms, hair as soft as unspun wool draped over his collarbone and the sweet scent of peacefulness that will envelop the both of them. He spends the rest of the night tormenting himself over Aries, wondering  _ what if what if what if _ and thinking  _ I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry  _ before he falls into a terrible dream with her by his side. They’re back at home, and they’re only laughing, but when he wakes up, he felt so overwhelmingly lonely that he’s tempted to get drunk before his hangover can even kick in. 

 

When he finally dragged himself to the guild, Gray greeted him enthusiastically, proclaiming that he looked terrible. Loke shoved him away, pulling his glasses on and assuming his charming self once again. The girls attach themselves to his elbow again, and he hides behind his glasses, blue sheen covering his swollen eyes, and he’s Perfect Loke again. 

 

He can play the part. He’ll play the part of suave prince so well that no one will notice who he actually is. Of course, people know. Like Master Makarov, who probably knew from day one; or Bickslow, who could see souls and knew Loke wasn’t human but didn’t rat him out anyway. Small miracles, he said to himself as he gulped down a shot of vodka. Cana laughs, slapping his back before snatching her precious vodka back. He knows better than to ask Mirajane for beer at 10 in the morning so he allows Gray to drag him to the request board. He needs to pay for his rent and the repair of the wall anyway.

 

He let's Gray pick the job this time - fighting bandits, like the last 10 times - and he allows for the distraction that comes with Gray. His head thunks on the cool glass of the train window and he prays for salvation. 

 

Whatever form that might be in. 

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic because I was wondering about the time difference in the human and Celestial World. If I'm feeling sad enough I'll write the accompanying Aries side of this fic. 
> 
> *blows nose*


End file.
